A Reason to Live
by noIntelligence
Summary: The first Quarter Quell is one filled with dark secrets, hatred and fear. Thrown into an arena with deadly twists, Clarity Maysilee fights for her survival. However, unexpected events in the games lead to hope that would pass down to the final rebellion.
1. Final Preparations

**Summary:** The first Quarter Quell is one filled with dark secrets, hatred and fear. Thrown into an arena with deadly twists and horrors, Clarity Maysilee fights for her survival. However, unexpected events in this year's Hunger Games lead to a spark that will continue on for generations to come.**  
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**Author's Note:** This is the first story I wrote for the Hunger Games, so I hope it meets the expectations! Not only is this multi-chapter going to be about the Quarter Quell, but it will also be about dark family secrets, the need for survival, the fear of murder, and just a hint of love to top it all off. What happens in the arena will tie back to the actual Hunger Games trilogy written by Suzanne Collins... but you will have to read on to find out. I really hope you enjoy the story!

- noIntelligence

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Final Preparations<strong>

I clench the kitchen knife in my hand, holding up my long black hair. I carefully position the blade close to my neck, and close my eyes.

In one swift motion, my hair falls to the ground.

I open my eyes and look down at the pile, setting the knife onto the table beside me. It feels nice having the weight of my thick hair gone, but I always feel the emptiness that follows. As if a part of me is carved out from inside my chest.

"Clare?" I hear a yawn from behind me. "What are you doing up so early on a Sunday?"

I turn my head and look at my sister. Straight, black hair. Slightly on the skinny side. Dark eyes looking up at me with a certain annoyance that I woke her up. The mirror image of me. Except for her jeweled knuckles.

"Today's the reaping," my answer is curt.

"Oh, that," she settles her head back onto her pillow and swings her arm over her eyes.

"Oh my goodness, Clarity!" It is the loud, irritated voice of our foster mother. "Why do you have to do this every single year?"

I don't look at her as I scoop up the hair off the ground.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," she roughly pulls me back in front of her as I try to leave the room.

My eyes rise to her face in a glare. I hate the feeling of her hand on my arm.

She gives a small, startled gasp. "No, never mind, don't look at me, you snake-eyed girl."

Even to someone who has been around me for ten years, my eyes are still something terrifying. I feel my teeth biting into the insides of my cheek. Yes, that's one other difference between my sister and I. Although we both have dark coloured eyes, her are large and beautiful. Like our mother's. And me… well, nobody can look at me without flinching.

This causes a rush of heat to enter my face. I feel so angry. Or… am I sad?

My sister senses this. "Atina, let her go," her voice was so forceful that the hold on my arm is instantly lifted. "I'll have a talk with her," she says in a quieter tone.

"I – um, breakfast will be ready in a few minutes," Atina stammers and rushes out of the room.

Ever since my older sister, Solicity, won the hunger games five years ago, Atina seemed… afraid of her, treated her differently. Even I never saw my own sister the same way.

Not because she won. But because of _how _she won.

"Clare," Solicity starts with a sigh. She sits up on the bed and pats the spot beside her, the jewels on her hand glistening in the sunlight.

There is something about the way that Solicity looks at me that makes me unable to disobey her. But this look… it makes me feel like prey.

I sit carefully at the edge of her bed and look at my hands folded neatly in my lap. I'm nervous, as if I'm being punished, or as if…

"Clare, you've been cutting your hair off at every reaping for five years already," Solicity goes straight to the point, either not caring about the distance between us or not noticing. "Why?"

_Because if I go into the games, I would have one less thing to worry about. Because I'm so afraid of being chosen at the reaping that I just want to be ready. Because I just KNOW I will be picked this year. Because I don't want to fight in the hunger games like you did. Because I don't want to look like you in the games. Because I don't want to _be_ like you. Because I don't want to be a…_

I stay silent.

"Okay, Clarity, look at me," Solicity's voice hardens with intensity.

Although she's only two years older than me, I always feel like I'm back to being a little six-year-old when she's like this.

I sigh, and look into my sister's eyes. I see my reflection in her eyes, and fight the urge to cringe at the sight of myself. But Solicity doesn't move a muscle. No fear shows on her face.

"Clare, it'll be okay," she reaches out and gently touches my hair. My eyes couldn't help but follow the glistening jewels of blue, red, purple, even clear with tints of all the colours. So beautiful, yet so evil.

"You're eighteen this year. This is the last year you'll ever be eligible to be reaped. You were safe for six years, why would this year be any different?"

"Because this year's the Quarter Quell," I answer, feeling the dread seep into my entire body.

The Quarter Quell, to be held every twenty-five years, brings on new horrors to all the districts to remind us of the consequences of our rebellion. This year will be the first ever Quarter Quell, and there is no doubt that the Capitol will make it extra entertaining.

It was just a few weeks ago when President Snow, the leader of Panem, appeared on television to announce to the entire country what this special year would bring. Although his skin was stretched tight from surgery, his movements onto the stage and his raspy voice as he described the Dark Days reflected his age. And his eyes, sagging despite what was surgically done, reminded me of… me.

I shudder at the memory.

"Don't worry so much, there are so many other kids in District 3, they can't possibly choose you out of everyone else."

My sister always sounds so logical when she's trying to assure me that I'm safe, but this time she is wrong. I close my eyes and try to relax myself, but only end up re-watching the announcing of the Quarter Quell in my head.

"This year, we honour our first Quarter Quell," the president began before coughing loudly into a handkerchief.

A boy, maybe around my age, walked onto the stage holding a box. His hair was white as snow despite his youth, and I remember that a shiver ran down my spine when he gave a casual glance at the cameras. He had the eyes of a snake, just like the president. Just like me.

The boy, no doubt President Snow's son, held open the box filled with tidy, upright rows of white envelopes. The president carefully pulled out a square of paper from the envelope marked with a 25, but almost choked from his coughing when he tried to read it.

I swore I saw the corners of the boy's mouth tilt up.

"On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children are dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district will be made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who will represent it."

I felt the blood drain from my face.


	2. The Reaping

**Author's Note:** I'm not one with many words, so... here's the second chapter! I'm still in the process of writing but I'll try to get new chapters up fast if people show interest in the story. Maybe every few days? Or maybe every single day? What do you think?

- noIntelligence

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: The Reaping<strong>

I walk with my sister to Town Square, right in front of the Justice Building, wearing a décolleté black dress that she made me put on. I feel exposed, willing this dress to cover my bare shoulders and neck, as we pass rows upon rows of factories and concrete apartments.

Arriving at the make-shift stage where the reaping will take place, Solicity gently slides her cold fingers down my hair and across my cheek, then goes to sit at the victor's seat. I carefully make my way through the gathering crowd to the roped-off area where all the kids from ages twelve to eighteen stand, waiting. Only this year, we are organized so that we face the audience instead of the building, where the glass reaping balls are replaced by two stands of paper.

I can already guess what's on the papers. The names of every potential tribute, ordered by age like how we are lined up. This ensures that when the chaos of the election begins, the tributes' names will be known when they are handed over by their own district.

I stand in the assigned order with the other girls my age, noticing the envious glances directed at my dress, since most of District 3 can't even afford to dress warmly in winter. Some girls are smirking while casting looks at me. _Do they know?_ I wonder, as a low murmur begins from the crowd assembled around us. I see several people pointing at us – in my direction? – and I know that this year, I will die.

My sister and I were not born here. We fled from the Capitol. Two children, my sister barely eight while I was six, were found by an old man in the outskirts of District 3 without a mother. We were frozen stiff, huddled in the snow-covered ground in the middle of winter. We had nothing to eat in days except a few nuts we dug up at the base of a tree. We would have died if the old man didn't find us and take us in, feed us, and clothe us in his daughter's old clothes. We called him Grandpa.

In return for his kindness, my sister and I helped him with whatever we could. We collected firewood for the little cement hut we called home. We learned how to cook the bits of grain and wild plants he taught us to find in the woods. Eventually, in only two years, it was all we could do to take care of him as he lay in bed, no longer able to get up.

The town clock strikes two, bringing me back to reality. I hear Mayor Salemn begin reading the history of Panem, the same story every year. The only difference is that this year, I can see – no, feel – the restlessness of the district right in front of me. Are they discussing who to sacrifice to the Hunger Games?

"It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks," the mayor ends, then reads the list of past District 3 victors. Victor, really, since in the past twenty-four years only Solicity came back alive.

On stage, my sister gives the cameras an innocent smile.

District 3's escort, Sylva Tankton, is introduced, and I feel the anxiety rise from the pit of my stomach. This year, her hair is a spiky mess of purple and gold, her lips and finger nails a deep violet. The plump lady is always smiling, making me wonder for a moment how her cheeks can stand it. I rarely have any reason to smile on a regular day, let alone on the day of the reaping.

"Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favour! As you all know, you will get to choose which tributes will be reaped this year, how exciting! The most popular girl and boy will win!" Sylva makes it sound as if we get a prize for being sacrificed by family and friends to the hunger games.

"It's simple, really," she continues. "Everyone just call out a name, and we will resume when a consensus is reached. Okay, ladies first!"

The crowd is silent for a moment, amazing for a district this large. I wonder if it will even be possible for everyone to agree on a single tribute. Then I remember the disadvantages I have in comparison with all the other girls.

I don't have any family or friends to help me. And I'm the victor's sister.

"Come on now, don't be shy," Sylva prompts, a little unsure of herself.

A low murmuring starts again in the crowd, then one, two, five, twenty people starts yelling out names, pointing here and there. Soon, voices become mingled together, everyone calling for someone different, family and friends directing attention away from their loved ones. Agreements, questions, arguments erupt from the streets surrounding the square.

"Hey, what about that girl in black?"

I see a man that I don't know pointing in my direction.

I feel the blood drain from my face as tens, then hundreds of voices shout their approval, their fingers all pointing directly at me. The roar of voices is so loud that I wish I could just cover my ears and run away from this nightmare.

Not one person calls me by name.

This is exactly what the Capitol wants. For the people of the districts to turn on one another by arguing over whose family's child should be sacrificed. Then, when there's no other choice, a tribute is chosen, and one family will forever grieve, hating their own district.

This is not the situation in my case. No one has any reason to grieve me besides Solicity, and she is not the _type_ to grieve.

"Okay, okay, quiet down," Sylva speaks loudly into the microphone, trying to calm the crowd.

Still, a few people continue to call out at me, as if they are afraid that their own children are still in danger of being picked.

"Come on up," she motions me to the stage.

I take a shaky breath and force my legs to move. I try to avoid the stares as everyone shifts away from me to give me walking space. I cling onto the golden pin at my side for courage, tracing its perfectly circular ring, the detailed lines of the feathers, and the smooth curve in the shape of a bird.

My mockingjay pin.

On the night Grandpa passed away, he could barely move, barely talk. He lay in bed, where my sister and I were trying our best to keep him comfortable. Then, as I was drying his sweat-covered face with a towel, he started choking, trying to talk. I couldn't understand his garbled speech, but when he pointed to the old wooden desk near the foot of the bed, I knew what he wanted.

Solicity went to get him water while I opened the drawer of the desk and brought the beautiful golden pin to Grandpa. It took all his strength to grasp the pin and bring it to his cheek. Tears ran down his face as he brushed his fingers across the pin. Tears came to my eyes too. Grandpa taught us everything he knew, gave us everything he had, protected us the best he could. With shaking hands, he entrusted his most treasured possession to me, and took his last breath.

Two years ago, he brought us home. Now, we were left alone again.

"What a popular young lady, what's your name?" Sylva asks me the moment I take my spot on the stage.

I swallow, trying to stay strong. It's so hard. "Clarity Maysilee."

"Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute, Clarity Maysilee!"

I bite the inside of my cheek. The only reason these people are clapping is because they can all ensure their own daughters will be safe this year.

"Now, it's time to choose our boy tribute!" Sylva claps, and motions for the crowd to begin.

The voices come faster, stronger, now that the crowd has a feel of the power they hold. But it seems to go on for hours. Nobody can decide; there is only an incomprehensible roar of names. Eventually, Sylva is forced to go with one of the more popular choices.

A stocky boy in a neat black shirt and shorts is called up, obviously a merchant's son from the way he dresses. And known to most kids at school, a bully. He walks up to the stage with a nervous grin on his face. He's pretending to be on top of things, but I can see him faltering.

"What's your name, young man?" Sylva trills.

"Acario Garin," he says, his pale blue eyes showing fear despite his effort to act like his usual cocky self.

We are both congratulated and herded inside the Justice building after Mayor Salemn reads the Treaty of Treason. I'm conducted into a room with fading carpets and old plush couches. It doesn't seem like much to me, since Solicity and I live in the Victor's Village, but I'm sure most people in the Districts haven't set foot in such a rich room before.

This is the hour for visitors. For saying goodbye to family and friends. But nobody comes. I just sit on one of the couches, counting the seconds that tick away at my life.

No, I won't let it. I will come back alive.

The hour passes, and guards escort me out of the building. I'm taken in a car to the train station, where dozens of cameras take in my face. I hear reporters commenting on how alike Solicity and I look.

I try to hold in my tears. Not because I'm leaving District 3. Not because I'm being sent for slaughter by my own district. I'm torn because I finally realize how I wasted my own chance to be happy. Now, there won't be another chance.


	3. My Mother's Book

**Author's Note:** Just in case anyone gets angry at me, I'm going to warn you that there are a lot of loose ends that won't be tied up until later chapters, so you'll have to wait and see. :)

Right now, I'm supposed to be writing my report or studying for final exams... but obviously, I'd rather write. Unfortunate. :( Can't wait till my exams are over! I just hope I don't get a writer's block by then.

- noIntelligence

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: My Mother's Book<strong>

On the train, I am shown to my chamber by one of the servers. The room is like mine in the Victor's Village, with the same basic furniture and a private bathroom. There's even the same coloured carpet. The only difference is that the dresser drawers contain all kinds of fine clothes that's somehow all in my size.

The first thing I do is peel off the horrible dress Solicity put me in, and pull on a sweatshirt and jeans. Forget these painful heels, I'd rather live my few days of luxury in comfort. As in walking around in a pair of fuzzy slippers.

I pin my mockingjay onto my shirt, and run my fingers across its surface again. This one little pin means so much. To the rebellion. To Grandpa. To me.

I suddenly remember something. I run out into the rocking corridor to find my sister, but there are just too many chambers. I end up in the dining room, where Sylva sits, looking over what I assume to be her schedule book.

"Oh, hi Clarity, you're a little early but we'll be starting supper soon anyways. Come, sit," she nods to the chair beside her.

I tentatively sit at the table, and attempt a smile, but really, smiling is not my forte. I wonder how Solicity does it. I guess I will have to learn that to get any sponsors at all.

Soon, Acario and Solicity come and sit with us. My sister gives me a reassuring squeeze of the hand under the table. I just stifle a sigh. I know I'm being hard on her, but I'm surprised to see that she actually looks worried. She never worries. She always knows what to do, how to act. Something I never inherited.

We are served a meal of multiple courses. Even though Solicity and I have all the money we'll – she'll – ever need, I've never had meals as delicious as this. I guess even money in the Districts can't buy Capitol delicacies. I usually don't eat much, but I give in at the sight of turkey stew with wild rice. I already feel full by the time the main course arrives, but I can't resist the sliced chicken breast cooked to perfection sided with fluffy mashed potato and gravy. Solicity told me the Capitol served good food, but this is beyond what I imagined.

As soon as the meal is over, I remember my "mission", and drag my unwilling sister out of the dining room. I catch Acario glaring daggers at me, either from taking away our only mentor or having the advantage of being Solicity's sister, but I just ignore him.

"Clare! What's the matter with you?" Solicity complains, rubbing her wrist.

I get straight to the point. "Did you remember to –"

"Yeah, yeah, I brought it. You don't have to freak out like that," she sighs and walks to her compartment.

I feel a wave of relief.

"What's so important about this old book anyways?" Solicity asks as she hands it to me.

I smile a little, holding the book to my chest.

"Okay, whatever. Go put that away then join us for the recaps, okay?"

Surprisingly, I find my way back to my room without getting lost. I sit on my bed and open up a random page of the book. Dense text fills the pages, most of which I can't understand when I try to read it. But I gently run my finger over the neat handwriting that fills the margins of the pages.

Mom's writing.

This was Mom's book. I still faintly remember watching her study this book, taking notes or adding in information on its pages. She was a doctor back in the Capitol, so she was always very busy during the day and studied during the night. Solicity and I were expected to behave or get sent to our rooms, so we enjoyed our time with Mom by sitting with her while she studied. Quiet, but curious.

Even now, I am curious. Mom is gone, but I won't let her hard work go. I wish I could read all this, but most of the pages are filled with lengthy words that I never learned in school before.

There _is_ one section I can understand, though. And that's the section I'll need to know by heart to have a chance in the Games this year.

I put the heavy book on the desk beside my bed, and head back to watch the recaps of the reaping with the others in the sitting room.

The recaps have already started by the time I arrive. I find a space beside Solicity and sit down, getting yet another glare from Acario. I'm starting to feel awfully scared to be around him. It looks like he'd like to get the games started early by killing me for having our mentor as my sister.

I try to focus on the kids that I would be facing, but there's nothing to remember besides the haunting screams of the districts sacrificing their own children. I missed the District 1 reaping, but District two's process was extremely complicated. All the kids were raising their arms and yelling right along with the adults, hoping to get chosen. I could never understand them. Why would they want to risk their lives like that? To leave their loved ones, leave their homes, be sent to an arena and become monsters, killing kids before being killed, and play as the Capitol's pawn?

Then again, all of us are merely pieces in their games.

In no time, I am watching myself walk onto the stage in District 3, a subtle fear and vacant look in my eyes. I wonder what people see me as. A girl whose sister won a bloody game five years ago, or simply a scared girl who won't make it past the blood bath?

District 4 ends up being about the same as District 2, while all the other districts show next to no excitement in the reaping. Similar to ours, except for one. District 12, a small population of tired-looking people covered in coal-dust, make no attempt to play by the rules. Not one person moves or speaks. There seems to be confusion even from the commentators, before the clip is cut to show two tributes standing on the stage. The silence feels deafening.

What did they do? Pick two people out of random when chaos failed to break out? And how could District 12, out of all districts, disobey the Capitol like that? Is it simply because the smaller community allowed everyone to feel closer and more united, or is there something special about District 12 that nobody knows of?

Suddenly, as the close-up of the District 12 girl and boy is shown on screen, I realize something.

There are no kids in the twenty-fifth Hunger Games.

As the Capitol seal lights up on the screen, I try to recall all the faces I just saw. All of them are surely over sixteen, with the majority of them at the cap of eighteen, like me. Honestly, this is a smart strategy on everyone's part, picking the strongest to fight for a better chance to win. But to me, this is fearful. I will be facing the strongest people, some of them certainly with knowledge of swords, maces, axes, no doubt a knife.

I leave the living room without another word, and lose myself in my mother's book.


	4. Who Am I?

Author's Note: I know I never mentioned this but I would really appreciate a review so I know that at least one person is reading my story. It would make my day! :)

- noIntelligence

**Chapter 4: Who Am I?**

We arrive at the Capitol early the next morning. I stand in the dining room, not having touched my breakfast, and look out the window as the train pulls in. The city is in a way similar to District 3 because of all the buildings, but it's also incredibly different in that their buildings are many times taller and full of colour.

My eyes harden as I look at the place that I will be prepared for slaughter. At least there aren't many citizens up at this hour.

Solicity stumble in and seat herself for a quick breakfast, rubbing sleep from her pretty eyes. She has always been the one to sleep in. Somehow, I expected her to act her normal uncaring self, but she only glances up at me once with sorrow in her eyes.

Sylva arrives with Acario in tow just as the train comes to a stop. All of us look at each other, different emotions flickering across our eyes. Excitement, sadness, fear.

And me? Emptiness.

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><p>Acario and I are taken into different rooms of the Remake Center as soon as we were ushered from the train station. Immediately, I am met by three ladies wearing heavy makeup, their identical hairstyles dyed in neon green, electric blue, and pumpkin orange. To prevent my eyes from burning on sight, I look down at the ground for the majority of my time there. Actually, I do that so they don't notice my eyes.<p>

"What happened to your hair?" the shrill voice from the orange-haired lady, Elza I think, nearly makes me jump.

_I cut it, what else?_ I think, although I don't answer or look at her. My fear is making me project anger onto everyone I come across, it seems.

Elza just tsks at me as she picks up bits of my chin-length hair, attempting to do something with it. She ends up not doing anything at all, so I assume she just gave up.

After a while of attempting to get me to talk (although to no avail), the three settle to chatting amongst themselves as they tear at the little hairs on my skin and work their way through my nails. The worst part for me is that they required me to take off all my clothes. I'm used to privacy, having lived in a huge house in the Victors' Village with a room to myself, so I wasn't about to hand my body over to these freaks. Unfortunately, putting up a fight didn't get me into a better position; what made me end up here naked on this chair is something I'd rather forget.

Hours pass, and I am finally allowed to meet my stylist. I honestly don't want to, but I might as well get this over with. I grab the robe sitting by my chair the moment the three ladies turn their backs. Although Elza begins to object when she sees me wrapping the robe tightly around my bare body, she just shakes her head and sighs before leaving the room. I'm glad. I'd rather have them give up on me than force me into things again. I slump back into my chair and look into the distance, trying to think my way through this but knowing that it's impossible.

I hear a pair of footsteps approach, stopping right in front of me. I look up at the man, expecting him to flinch from my eyes. He doesn't.

"I'm Bennett," the old man says. I can see nothing about him that resembles the Capitol citizens. His face is filled with wrinkles and his hair is grey. Like Grandpa.

"Clarity," I say, ducking my head again. At least he doesn't seem to be angry at me for pulling the robe on, although I continue to cling onto the thin fabric with my dear life.

"Clarity," he repeats my name. "The splitting image of your sister."

His voice is kind. Why? I glance up at him again and see that he is smiling, although in a similar sorrowful way as the way Solicity smiled at me the day before. Why?

"I won't force you to wear anything you don't want," Bennett starts. "I know your sister well, and I promised her to help you as best as I can."

I'm silent. I'm not sure how to comprehend this. Don't all stylists put their tributes into weird costumes for the freak show?

My stylist gives me a comforting smile and comes up behind me, inspecting my hair. Without another word, he begins working.

I couldn't help it. My eyes feel moist as I stare in the mirror at him.

_Grandpa_.

* * *

><p>In a few more hours, I am dressed in a black unitard made of a fabric that gives off a metallic shine. To symbolize the metal used in the factories, I assume? Two slightly protruding tubes run along each side, from the ends of my sleeves up to my neck, then down to my ankles.<p>

I look to Bennett questioningly, and he gives me a knowing smile. He clicks a switch at my sleeve and the tubes light up into a glowing yellow. I can't explain it, but it reminds me of electricity, although I obviously haven't seen electricity in its pure form before.

It looks brilliant.

"Thank you," I whisper. This is far better than what I had hoped for.

He nods and clicks off the switch at my sleeve before giving my hair a last fix. My badly cut hair is now carefully layered and styled to fit… me. Although I never saw myself with bangs before, I somehow feel that this is the me that was always meant to be. I note that my eyes are slightly shielded by my hair, but it makes me feel more secure.

"Come," Bennett says as he turns away from the mirror. "It's time to make your mark."

Arriving downstairs, Acario and I are loaded into our chariot made of iron. It feels too close to the front of the line for my liking, right between the strong and well-dressed tributes from Districts 2 and 4. I'm glad that Bennett is my stylist though. I probably look a hundred times more down to earth than the other ninety percent here dressed in extravagant colours and weird ornaments.

I can't say the same for Acario though. It seems that his stylist, Ikox, would rather follow his own imagination than coordinate with Bennett, resulting in the creation of his horrendous wire-covered suit. Acario doesn't look at me once.

Solicity comes up to us and sighs when she looks me over. "Why did Bennett have to dress you so conservatively?"

Suddenly, the giant doors open in front of us and the chariots begin to move. My sister holds my gaze for a while longer and mouths me a word. "Smile."

I have no time to think as we are greeted by screams of excitement. The music booms in the air and the roar of the audience is deafening. A spike of fear erupts in me, but I end up looking straight ahead and force a smile to my lips. It doesn't last long though. I feel my face tensing up until I have no expression left. Still, somehow, the crowd gasps and I look up at the screen to see why.

As the sky gets darker in the Capitol, the light of my costume becomes more prominent. While other tributes begin to lose their colour, I become brighter.

I no longer need to smile for them. Bennett made me shine.

President Snow speaks when we all stop in the center of the City Circle. Somehow, I feel a pair of eyes on me. It's odd to be able to feel this when there are thousands of Capitol citizens watching, I know, but I just feel a sudden chill. I look up past the president and see his son.

His snake-like eyes burn into mine.

The next moment, all twenty-four of us are whipped into the Training Center, where we would be living until the games finally begin.

* * *

><p>I sit in my unnecessarily large compartment after dinner, wearing a baggy grey shirt and pants. I hug my knees to my chin as I replay today's events in my head. The audience liked me, I think. No, they liked my costume. I sigh as I wonder about tomorrow's first training session. The thoughts aren't pretty as I question how people think of me, and how I think of myself.<p>

Who am I, even? Clarity Maysilee, sister of District 3's only victor Solicity Maysilee.

No. I'm the daughter of Ayla Maysilee, a doctor who was murdered when fleeing from the Capitol with her two young daughters.

I run my hand across the cover of my mother's book, remembering her yelling for us to run before falling to the ground, blood pouring out from a bullet hole in her forehead. I remember seeing my sister crying. I was in a state of shock, but somehow I dragged Solicity away and ran. I woke up in an overgrown bush with my older sister in my tiny arms, our cheeks wet with tears and snow, our lips blue with the cold.

"Clare," I snap out of my memories to see Solicity standing at my door.

When I don't say anything, she shuts the door tightly behind her and sits at the bed with me.

"You have to win this," she dives right into it, her hand clutching mine.

I open my mouth to tell her that the odds are against it, but she speaks first.

"I told the Career mentors that you'll be joining them."

I stare at her in shock. "You what? Why? I'm not a Career!"

"You will be one. You've trained with me. I made it in, and you can too."

Solicity made it in, alright. She made sure that the leader of the Career pack fell head over heels for her. She conducted herself well and played the part flawlessly. In the end, it didn't take her much effort to win the games.

"We're not like the others from District 3. We're different," she stares intensely into my eyes. "Go see Gaius of District 1 tomorrow morning before training, I've set up a time for you."

She stands up and walks to the door. I am speechless at this moment.

"Don't tell Acario," she whispers. "I can only take care of one of you."

The door clicks shut behind her.


	5. Deceit

**Author's Note:** Still didn't get a review, but oh well... Hm, not much to say, really. I'm kind of getting stuck after writing this chapter, but hopefully I can get something good up soon. :)**  
><strong>

- noIntelligence

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: Deceit<strong>

The next morning I am woken up by Solicity bright and early, and forced to dress like her. And by that, I mean a low-cut black top paired with shorts that barely cover anything. I tug on my "clothes", willing them to cover more of my terribly exposed body.

According to her plan, I'm supposed to seduce Gaius. But me? I'm far from seductive. I don't even flirt. I shiver at the thought of anyone touching me, but the hard stare from my sister tells me that there's no way she's letting me put on a jacket.

I take the elevator down to the training area, taking a deep breath as the doors slide open. Remembering Solicity's instructions, I force a smile and step out into the empty hallway.

I don't see Gaius, but I do see the dark stations of equipment, props, and weapons lining the enormous gymnasium. Just thinking of all the different ways that I could be killed sends a shiver down my spine. I don't know why, but I feel a pull from inside of me. I begin walking towards the closest station – one filled with dozens of deadly maces.

"Getting an early start on your training?"

I spin around at the voice and see a tall boy standing not too far behind me. His sand-blond hair, typical of most District 1 volunteers, covers almost half his face. The only thing that doesn't fit on a Career Tribute's face are his playful blue eyes and lop-sided grin.

"Maybe," I almost choke on my pathetic attempt at sounding interested.

I saunter purposefully over to Gaius, hoping that my urge to flee doesn't show. "How about you?"

He chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "My mentor tells me that you want to ally with us. She's your sister, right?"

He means Solicity. Anyone could tell that I'm related to my own mentor from our same face and body structure, so why is he asking?

"Yeah," I say, trying to sound like I don't really care.

"You know," I bite my lip and whisper, "I have a lot more to contribute than just my skills."

I want to puke.

Suddenly, he pins me to the wall, his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my lips. This takes me by surprise and I feel my heart pounding in my ears.

"Do you, now?"

I glare at him. I will not back down from a Career.

After a moment of silence, he bends over closer to me. I am about to punch him in the guts when he whispers into my ear.

"You're in."

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><p>Training begins with Gaius dragging me straight to the knife station, his hand constantly lingering at my waist. It's a good thing that Solicity taught me how to throw straight and make a clean cut with all types of knives. The only thing is, I end up with a body full of goosebumps from him touching me. The bad kind.<p>

After shredding a couple dummies and hitting the bullseye on all the targets for knife throwing, he seems to approve of my skill. We move onto other stations such as the swords, spears, and eventually maces. At this station, I finally learn what makes Gaius the leader of the Careers. He swings the mace with such amazing speed and accuracy that any contact is a death blow.

I swallow, making a mental note to get rid of all the maces that might appear in the arena.

Lunch comes too soon. I'm not ready to meet the rest of the Careers.

As Gaius and I approach the rowdy table of Districts 1, 2, and 4, I suddenly feel cold when the other tributes look up at me. By now, everyone in the gymnasium noticed the two of us and my waist is practically rotting away, so I definitely can't take any more of this. The boys at the table look me up and down, disgusting me with their lingering gazes, while most of the girls glare daggers at me.

Come to think of it, I'm shocked that Gaius never looked at me anywhere else aside from my face. He hasn't even made a move on me, except to hold me by the waist. Very unlike those District 2 and 4 boys, who are staring at me like a pair of hungry dogs.

"So, are you two together or something?"

The voice came from the girl with a number "2" pinned to her, the only one not glaring holes through me. Her hazel eyes are actually shining with amusement.

I open my mouth to deny her comment, but Gaius throws his arm over my shoulder.

"Of course. This is Clarity, my new little District 3 pet," he laughs and sits me down beside him.

_Pet?_

Everyone laughs then, realizing that I am merely their leader's play thing.

"She'll be joining us in our hunt. She's handy with a knife."

Most of them seem to agree, although I'm loathing the District 4 male's fixation on my chest. The District 2 girl, Isis I think, genuinely smiles at me. Well, as genuine as a Career can be. I smile at her in return, wondering just what kind of person she is.

I am taken by surprise when Gaius tucks a piece of loose hair behind my ear. I'm barely able to swallow the piece of bread I had in my mouth. How can a guy who just called me a "pet" be capable of such gentleness? Could he somehow be different from the others?

My thoughts are interrupted by a hiss from the District 1 girl, Crystal.

"How can we trust her?" her eyes are glaring at me so hard that they're bulging out from her face.

Good question.

"Well, she's madly in love with me."

Gaius grabs me by the waist out of nowhere, his hand too close to my chest and his other hand lands on my thigh, pulling me in for a kiss.

I freak.

I jump out of my chair and back away, my heart pounding and feeling like I'm about to vomit. The worst thing is, I see Gaius breaking out in laughter. Districts 2 and 4 look as confused as I do, but Crystal gives me a satisfied smile and seats herself on Gaius's lap.

They played me for a fool.

"Okay, what's going on here?" Isis arches her eyebrows, demanding an answer.

"You should ask _her_," Gaius glares at me with so much hate in his eyes that I don't recognize him from the boy I met this morning. "Her sister seduces Brent, tricking him into loving her, and murders him in cold blood."

My eyes widen. He's talking about how Solicity won the Hunger Games.

"Guess what? He was my brother."

I stand there, shocked. Five years ago, my sister kills his brother. Now, Gaius gets to face me. How satisfying it will be for him to get his revenge. What kind of torture and death has he planned for me already?

I think back to the twentieth Hunger Games. Throughout the weeks of hunting and fighting for survival, the District 1 boy, Brent, was always there to protect Solicity from danger. He really was in love with her. When there were only the two of them left in the arena, I didn't know what to expect. When I saw through my sister's plan, I didn't know whether I should feel happy for her soon-to-be victory or frightened. She dropped her weapons and told the boy that they would die together, for love. He was naïve enough to believe her. In their embrace, Solicity murdered him. One moment, Brent looked happy to die with her in his arms. The next second, his face was contorted with pain as he looked down to see blood flowing from where the love of his life punched him. Except, she didn't punch his stomach with her fist. She had four blades fixed to the back of her hand.

The very act that resulted in the jewels embedded in her knuckles. A glorious win to the Capitol, a fearful deceit to the rest of Panem.

"When you waltzed in here this morning asking to join us, think of how pleased I was to see you," he gives me a cold smile that sends a stab of fear through me. "Along with my plan to embarrass you in front of all the other tributes today, I'm arranging a long, painful death for you in the arena."

I swallow, clenching my hands into fists so hard that my knuckles are white.

"Just make sure not to die before I get my hands on you," he winks as he snakes his hand to Crystal's waist.

I narrow my eyes, feeling the anger rush to my head. Not a good sign, but I can't exactly control how I feel.

"I'll make you eat your words in the arena," I threaten with all the confidence I can muster. "Trust me."


	6. Broken

**Author's Note: **Sorry that I took so long to update! First, it was because I had finals to study for. But after that, I just got a really bad writer's block... even now, I'm not all that pleased with the chapter (which I was aiming to be much longer than this), but it's the best I can do for now.

Oh, and Italy wasn't half bad, either. I kinda took a two-week vacation instead of writing. :x

Anyways, I'd like to thank the people who are supporting me and my story. Although I'm updating pretty slowly right now, it makes me so happy that the few people who read it are encouraging me to write more. You know who you are, thank you so much!

I'll try my best to continue writing, but there's a lot on my mind right now, so forgive me if I end up not updating for a while. :(

Now, onto the chapter! Enjoy.

- noIntelligence

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><p><em>I don't want to care<em>

_And I don't want to hate_

_And I don't want to see you fall too far away_

_All because of fear_

_But in the end, what leaves you broken_

_In the end, makes you better_

- from "Better" by Plumb

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Broken<strong>

I take a long shower the next morning and indulge in some sweet warm bread tasting of milk by ordering from a mouthpiece in my compartment. I lie in bed eating my lonely breakfast in a black sweatshirt and jeans, not wanting to face my sister after the previous day's events.

I wish that I left with more dignity yesterday, but I couldn't think properly. The jerk really got to me. I could have thrown my dining knife at him so that he'd be injured for the games, or at least dumped water on his face. Instead, I just stormed away without doing anything. Except, of course, ensuring a certain death upon myself.

I sigh and chew thoughtfully on my breakfast. I really don't want to see anyone today, but I have no other choice. I missed half a day of training yesterday because I came back to sulk from what had happened. I might as well focus starting now so that I'd live to see another day. I give myself an encouraging nod, promising to work hard and avoid thinking about anything else.

I finish off my bread and decide to head to the Training Centre. I'm a few minutes late and didn't bother combing my hair, but it's short so it looks decent. I won't be making any friends anyways.

As I approach the elevator, Solicity stops me in my tracks.

"Where are you going, dressed like that?" her voice is cold as it echoes from the large sitting space.

It seems that we're the only ones here; I wonder where everyone else went. Acario probably left early for training, Sylva probably went to do whatever escorts do, and –

"Answer me."

"Training," I mutter.

Even though I know that Solicity cares about me, the way she's ordering me around is starting to get on my nerves. After what happened yesterday, I'm not planning to obey everything she tells me anymore. I'm done.

"In _that_? How are you going to win the favour of the Gamemakers by looking like this? On top of that, you locked yourself in your room the entire afternoon yesterday. Do you really think the Games will be that easy, where you can just decide to take a day off whenever you want?"

I feel the anger erupt from inside of me, aiming to shatter everything in its path.

"No, I _don't_ think the Games will be easy, but that's _my _problem. _I'm_ the one going into the arena, _not you. _I am done dressing like you, acting like you, trying to live up to how you did in your Games," I don't even know where all this is coming from. I never talked back to my sister like this, not for the entire eighteen years of my life, but now I can't seem to stop. I feel like there's so much emotion bottled inside of me that just needs to break out.

But release means the both of us getting hurt. Release means destroying what we had, breaking what I was.

"Solicity," I continue, although I feel blood rushing to my head, making my head hurt. "I am _not_ you. I may be thrown into the arena to never come back, but I'll be trying my best. I will fight my hardest. I want to win this, but I will _never_ be you."

Following my words, I can't help but remember her victory. The innocent children that died at her hands. The final deceit that stained her forever with the boy's blood.

Maybe that's why everything felt so different when she came back from the games. Every time I saw her, I saw a cold-blooded killer. It's something so unbelievably horrific, seeing my own sister as a monster that she did not choose to be, but it's something that I can't control.

Maybe that's why I'm so afraid to be like her. I don't want to be a murderer.

Silence fills the room, but I can hear the pounding in my ears and my rapid breathing. I've always been the quiet type, never to raise my voice or object to anything Solicity said. I feel just as shocked as she looks right now. I could blame the stress of the Hunger Games looming over me, or the horrible trick that was played on me by Gaius yesterday, but I know that those are not the reasons why I erupted just now.

Solicity narrows her stone cold eyes. "All I've been doing is helping-"

"I don't need any more help," I sigh, knowing that she would hate me for this. "I need to do this my own way. I'll train hard. I'll fight. I'll take care of myself. I am just so tired of trying to be someone I'm not. Do you understand?"

She gets up and walks to me, putting her hand on my shoulder. It feels foreign. All I can see are her jeweled knuckles marking her deceitful victory. All I can imagine is the blood that dripped down her hands.

"It's _you_ who don't understand. If we don't play by his rules –"

"Whose rules?" I raise my voice over hers, waiting for an answer.

She opens her mouth, but for once nothing comes out. She looks down and presses her lips into a thin line. I take it that she is not about to tell me.

"This is _my_ life at stake. I'll play by my own rules," I say as I shake her hand off my shoulder.

I see Solicity's eyes widen with shock and hurt, but I've already gone this far. It's too late to fix now. I clench my teeth together and force myself to turn away from her. My guilt causes a lump rise into my throat, and my eyes begin to sting with unshed tears. I don't look back as I step into the elevator and smash the buttons with my fist.

As the doors close between us, I look up to see a single tear fall from my sister's face.


	7. Distractions and Surprises

**Author's Note: **I'm currently at work... it's lunch break though, so I have an excuse to be on! This chapter was actually finished last night, but I had to go to bed so I didn't get to post it up. So here!

I apologize if my writing sounds slightly off, though. I had a hard time writing this, as I still have my writer's block. Sadly, conversational chapters are not my forte. Oh, and might I add that I'm horrible at writing in first person present tense? I used to only write in third person past tense, so writing in the Hunger Games style is making my life so much harder! I love this story though and I already have the entire thing planned out, so I'll just have to go against all odds and keep on writing. :)

- noIntelligence

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><p><em>Silence is the relative or total lack of audible sound. By analogy, the word <em>silence_ may also refer to any absence of communication, even in media other than speech. Silence is also used as total communication..._

- Wikipedia

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Distractions and Surprises<strong>

I enter the gymnasium with at least a dozen eyes on me.

Not only am I late, but it seems that most people still remember my 'mishap' with the Careers yesterday. Although the majority of the poorer districts quickly go back to what they were doing, I can hear the snickers coming from the Careers littered around the weapon stations. I try to keep my face void of emotion as I walk past them, but somehow I knew that it wouldn't be so easy.

"What's with the sudden attitude change? Didn't you plan to seduce me?"

The voice stops me dead in my tracks. I clench my hands into tight fists, wishing that I could make a connection with Gaius's face. It would make my life complete seeing him enter the games with a broken nose.

I try to imagine him crying for his mother as I walk away, ignoring the laughs and stares that are being thrown my way.

I end up at the edible plants station. Although I can tell that it's not popular with the tributes, I know that the knowledge will come in handy when I'm searching for food in the arena.

I already know a lot of the plants that are presented to me, mainly from living off the small patch of forest behind Grandpa's house. Wild onions, mint leaves, wild garlic, and acorns along with other types of nuts and plants. Some with medicinal uses, such as poppy seeds for pain and marigold to prevent infection. I do learn some valuable lessons at the station though. Without knowing the poison that nightlock possesses, I could have easily mistaken it for blueberry. Plantain is seen as a weed, but it's extremely useful for treating tracker jacker stings. I also make a mental note of the plants seen in swamps, rainforests, and evergreen forests. It's not particularly interesting to learn about the deserts, but I do keep in mind to avoid drinking cactus juice in case of hallucinations.

I also finish working on the fire-building and knot-tying stations before it's time for lunch, an hour that I'm definitely not looking forward to. The lack of having something to concentrate on makes me nervous about having another confrontation with the Careers, so I try to steer as far away from them as possible.

Until I see Acarius at their table.

It becomes one of those moments when my shock deems me useless. I end up standing in the middle of the room and just staring. Which wasn't a very good idea, by the way.

Acarius was laughing with the rest of the Careers about some joke they were making, but he stops as soon as he notices me. His eyes harden and he just sits there, glaring at me. _What are _you_ looking at?_ He seems to say with his silence.

The others all follow suit and turn in my direction. I can't help but notice the District 4 girl's hand on Acarius's chest or the smirk that Gaius shoots at me.

No, staring was definitely not a good idea.

It only takes another second to compose myself and move on, but the Careers have already seen my shock, and they're glorifying in it.

What's Acarius doing? I can't begin to imagine it. Yes, he's known as the District 3 bully and he physically fits in with the trained districts, but even so, why would he want to join such merciless brutes? He must know that when the time comes, they'll turn their backs on each other and he'll be the first to finish off.

Is it because he knows exactly what happened yesterday, and wants to get back at me for trying to join them?

I'm so engrossed in my own thoughts that I don't notice my surroundings until I find myself seated across from a boy with dark brown hair, maybe seventeen years of age. Nobody else sits at this table except us, making me feel incredibly awkward all of a sudden. There's no way that I'm striking up a conversation, so I distract myself by looking around at my competition.

My eyes widen with realization. I've been so focused on the Careers that I almost forgot about the sixteen others who could potentially kill me. Like I noted during the recaps of the reapings, almost everyone appear to be over sixteen years old. Even the starving districts came up with tributes qualified to put up a good show this year.

What an exciting year this will be for the Capitol.

It seems that aside from the Careers, all the tributes are sitting apart like lost sheep. Except… I see a pair talking together in hushed tones with the number '12' pinned on their backs.

I take a bite out of a soft Capitol roll and wonder to myself. District 12, the only people who refused to play by the Capitol's rules. District 12, whose tributes stand together in a time that forces people against each other. _Why_, I ask myself, _are they so different?_

"Hey."

I nearly choke on the bread in my mouth when the boy across from me spoke. I manage to swallow it, and look to see if he's talking to someone standing behind me.

"I'm talking to _you_," he chuckles, looking pointedly at me.

"Oh, um, hi," I stumble. Okay, maybe I'm not just quiet. I can also be socially… awkward. Having avoided making friends for most of my life, I no longer remember how to act around strangers.

"Caleb Stakes, District 7," the boy says, giving me a slight nod.

I nod back and find my voice, which was hidden somewhere over the nonexistent rainbow. "Clarity Maysilee, District 3."

In my head, I wonder why on earth anyone would talk to me.

"I know this might sound kind of weird, but you remind me of someone."

_Ah, really._

"My best friend," Caleb pauses and looks down. "She died in the Hunger Games last year."

_Oh._

"I'm… sorry," I whisper, for a lack of anything better to say.

"No, no, I didn't mean – what I wanted to say was –"

He sighs, only to regain his posture and mutter, "you're really pretty…"

My eyes widen with surprise, and I open my mouth to say something, anything to lessen the awkw–

"…but your eyes are kind of freaky."

I quickly flit my eyes away. Typical. Find a way to make me feel "less" bad when commenting on my eyes.

"I think it makes you look special," Caleb quickly adds.

I look up to see if he's joking with me, but instead I see sincerity and playfulness in his dark green eyes.

"It's just that your eyes remind me of…"

Before Caleb can finish his sentence, the head trainer, Korren, announces that training may continue.

I realize that I barely touched my lunch, so I end up stuffing the rest of the roll into my mouth. The rest of the food is wasted, though. I think of all those kids arriving at school with hollow eyes and empty stomachs in District 3, and wonder what right the Capitol has for letting people starve. Why do they get to take the fruits of our labour and waste it away, leaving us with nothing? How is it logical that they just sit there and watch us die, while all along they're the ones withholding our salvation?

The Capitol is despicable. They kill whoever they want, whenever they want it. But I wonder, if time rewinds and my family didn't have to run to District 3, would I have turned out to be just like these Capitol freaks? Face and hair done in painfully bright colours and dressed in feathers, waiting every year to watch another set of children die?

I clench my jaw and walk away from the tables. No, I would never be like that.

"Hey!"

I turn around and see Caleb motioning me to a station lined with all kinds of axes. I had no intention to go there today, actually, but I might as well stay to find out how these tree-chopping contraptions work. Well, how they work when chopping people, really, but I refuse to think about that. Somehow, it just makes my skin crawl and threatens to bring up the roll I just ate.

"This reminds me of home," Caleb starts, picking up an axe with blades on two sides. "It's a double-bitted axe. Mine looks almost exactly like this."

I'm beginning to think that he's one of those brutal killers who enjoys beheading people when I remember that District 7 provides lumber. The history teachers at school never go into much detail about the other districts, only touching on each one's specialty. Then they go on for the rest of class about how great the government of Panem is and how lucky we are to be forgiven from the rebellion. They merely feed us Capitol propaganda at school.

"I wish there was a tree here so I can show you how this works!"

Caleb grins at me and I can't help but smile. Maybe I've made a friend today after all.

For the rest of training, Caleb talks and I listen. I find out that he lost his mother years ago from giving birth to his little sister, who is only seven years old this year. That, like in District 3, children above twelve are required to take the minimum number of shifts at work, even if they are not in need of money. And finally, that his best friend was named Cammy. She was kind and shy. But according to him, the biggest similarity that Cammy and I share is that we tend to look for the specifics in a situation that other people wouldn't notice.

And while he talked, I was also thinking about my mother. Why did we run from the Capitol? Why did she leave behind her job as a specialized doctor and flee for her life with her two young children? Why did she end up with a bullet in her brain? Solicity and I were never given a reason. Somehow, it feels like our mother died without any reason at all.

I end up staying late with Caleb at the end of the training session to clean ourselves up. We tried out the camouflage station and made quite a mess. I get most of the green and brown off my arms, but I give up on the green bits that are sticking to the ends of my short hair.

We walk together to the elevator while he talks animatedly about a childhood story. I'm half listening, still thinking about my mother, when suddenly Caleb goes quiet.

I look up at him in question, only to see that instead of Caleb, another boy is standing right in front of me. I feel my blood run cold as I realize who it is. Thin lips. High cheek bones. Pointy chin. Dark wavy hair.

And snake-eyes that look exactly like mine.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's... 2nd Note:<strong> I actually didn't intend for this chapter to end up the way it is. I was going to dive straight into what's gonna happen next, but somehow it turned out like this. Well, what can you do when plans don't work out the way they're supposed to?


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